Something new. (Just what I wanted, right?) Find a new place in an old place. Don't be afraid of switching everything up. Chicago took care of me for eighteen years, it will welcome me back with open arms and wish me the best when I depart again.
Chicago doesn't belong to me. I was born between the cracks in the pavement, drifting in the air above the crowds that exhale in unison, raised in the taxis and trains and boats. I fell in love in the space between the soles of his shoes and the sidewalk, I was taught to love the human condition. I was shocked and scared and excited and blown away and at peace in the bustle of it all. I will come and go, but right now I've got a mind to go and stay for a while, to say "thank you, I will repay you."
No, Chicago doesn't belong to me. I belong to Chicago.